


Flickers of a Flame

by DestielsDestiny



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Remus, BAMF Sirius, BAMF severus, Bigotry & Prejudice, Bullying, Found Family Feels, Good Severus Snape, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Or at least grey area, POV Sirius Black, Psychic Abilities, Remus Lupin & Lily Evans Potter Friendship, Remus Lupin Needs a Hug, Sad Sirius Black, Sort Of, Werewolf Remus Lupin, Wolfstar Big Bang 2019, X-Men fusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 05:03:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19125145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestielsDestiny/pseuds/DestielsDestiny
Summary: Their first date, James pushes them into the Room of Requirement together, formal robes and candle lit dinner and soft rock music playing.Their fingers brush as they dance, awkward and gangly and shy. And every once in a while, a spark will shoot up into the air, and twirl back down in a cascade of light.





	Flickers of a Flame

**Author's Note:**

> For the WolfStar 2019 Big Bang. I blur the canon events of years 1-3 here, so don’t be surprised that some events-such as Quirrel, for example-are left out. Somewhat of a fusion with X-men, in that the “gifted” have powers somewhat similar to those caused by the X-gene.
> 
> The wonderful art for this collaborative, that inspired this fic, is by the awesome thematicallycoherent on tumblr, at this link: https://thematicallycoherent.tumblr.com/post/185428908398/i-can-finally-post-this-heres-my-piece-for-wsbb

__

_Gifted. Those with talent. Sparks. So the muggles used to whisper, about wizard kind. Monster. Abomination. Sorcerer. So the muggles still whisper, about those with abilities._

_Talent has been the lifeblood of the wizarding community for centuries. Those who are gifted at magic will always be among the most celebrated in our world. But some things have nothing to do with magic…_

__

— Excerpt from The Honorable Burtable Burtlebee’s _A brief history of unnatural entities in Wizarding Britain, with a focus on identification and containment_

***

_In a dark, dank basement, a whimper rends the air._

_It is November, and the temperature in the cramped space would be cold enough to show puffs of breath rasping from the small ball curled in the corner._

_Would be, if it wasn’t pitch black. Even the preternatural yellow of the eyes gazing fixedly into the distance could hardly penetrate it._

_Somewhere beyond the barred and padlocked door to the basement, a thump sounded, followed by more yelling._

_The ball flinched. Hard._

_They had been fighting for hours. They were always fighting._

_Curling his head into arms sticky with blood, Remus Lupin felt a tear slip down his face, followed by another. And then another._

_He was so cold. And it was so dark._

_Scrunching his eyes up with a look of serious concentration that would have been adorable on a boy of a mere five years, if not for the dark, and the blood, he willed himself to reach. To pull. To just try._ Please…

_A keening whimper filled the night, as the boy opened his eyes to be greet once more, by nothing but the dark._

***

_In a posh townhouse in the center of one of London’s oldest neighborhoods, be it muggle or wizarding, a little boy once asked his parents for a puppy._

_In most households, this would have been cause for long suffering sighs or indulgent empty promises. Or at most, annoyance._

_In the Black household. Well…_

_The next morning, Regulus Black careens into his father’s study holding a battered puppy by the scruff of its neck._

_The curses his parents try on him in an attempt to change him back, or perhaps, Sirius will later reflect with less bitterness than is probably healthy, to rid their family of such a stain entirely, take far longer to wear off than his previous wounds._

_The surety in his soul that finally, perhaps, he isn’t destined to become a monster after all. Well, that never truly fades._

_Because, as his cousin Bella will taunt at him, her wand pressed against the soft skin at his throat, just waiting for a reason to strike, his gift is such a pathetic one._

_He turns into a puppy, for Merlin’s sake._

_And with all the naivete and innocence that comes with being a nine year old boy, even when one grew up as the eldest son of Walburga Black, Sirius thinks about what a very Gryffindor ability he has, and he feels hope._

***

 _For as long as anyone has been able to remember, those with gifts have been treated with as much derision as reverence. The exception to that rule, naturally, is_ Albus Dumbledore.

 _Sirius doesn’t remember a time when his parents, their friends, everyone remotely connected to things both pureblood and dark magic obsessed, hadn’t whispered about Dumbledore, and what he could do_.

_Sparks, as no one with an ounce of sympathy or understanding in their hearts ever called them, were rare. And there was nothing euphemistic about that. It was just a fact. They were rare._

_Considering his own experience, Sirius has little allusion about anyone’s ability to hide something like this. No matter what the gift, whether flashy or not, none of them could ever be called insignificant._

_And their abilities appeared too young, too dramatically, for concealment._

_And whenever he hears someone talk about that rarity, Sirius will remember the phantom sting of his cousin’s wand against his throat, and he will try very hard not to think about the factors behind that rarity._

_And whenever another gifted speaks of hope, of acceptance, of love, he will remember being sixteen years old, watching his Headmaster repel an entire army with a flick of his fingers and a cry that seemed to be ripped from the man’s very soul, and he will remember the looks of fear and dread plastered on the white faces of the students that man was giving his all to protect, and he will remember thinking, how can they not see the sacrifice, the wonder, the love, and he will remember the day he gave up on such foolish things as hope._

***

_The compartment doors on the Hogwarts Express were sticky and troublesome at the best of times, and thumps and bumps and even the occasional, cut off expletive were far from uncommon occurrences each September._

_This September was no different._

_“Oh, blast it!” James Potter had always had a bit of a mouth on him, even at the not so tender footed age of eleven. A decade later, huddled in the remotest cell in Azkaban, Sirius would remember those bitten off curses, that scrunched up nose and frowning face, and squeeze his eyes tighter and tighter until they burned._

_Then, he’d thudded up against James back, his trunk banging painfully against his shin. “Wotcher, James! Isn’t exactly light you know, this trunk.” That trunk had belonged to his father as a boy. Sirius had burned the damn thing the moment he turned seventeen._

_The voice, when it came, was soft as melted caramel, velvety smooth as vanilla ice cream beneath. “Might I help?” Sirius turned, one hand barely catching the door of the compartment as it threatened to thud shut between him and that voice._

_Gentle, amber-yellow eyes regarded him from under a swath of soft, honey-brown hair. A hesitant hand, far too thin and scarred for an eleven year old’s, reached tentatively for the other trunk handle._

_Sirius felt as if the breath had been knocked from his lungs. He covered it, as he always did, with boisterous bluster. “Awfully decent of you mate, this thing’s bloody heavy.” The boy…grinned. Just a smidgen, and shy with it, but the expression lit up those eyes until they positively glowed._

_“Remus Lupin, at your service.” He somehow managed to hold the trunk up with one skeletal hand, holding the other across its bulk to clasp Sirius’ fingers where they held tight and white to the other handle._

_“Sirius Black, at yours.” He didn’t hesitate, even as his heart was in his throat. And as Remus’ grin blossomed into a brilliant smile, Sirius could swear, his whole world had just got brighter._

 

***

_“Those with abilities are rare among the wizarding population, with estimates placing the current total number at less than one percent world wide. These abilities typically appear before the sufferer’s tenth year, although two notable cases appeared closer to their twentieth year-”_

Hermione broke off in mid-sentence, her face scrunched up in annoyance. “This is ridiculous. The only book on these phenomena in the entire Hogwarts library, and it talks about these amazing abilities as if they’re a plague or something!” Ron slouched down in his chair, doing nothing to conceal his eye roll.

“Come on Hermione, we’ve been at this for a ruddy hour already! Let’s go to the lake-” Hermione, far from being cowed by Ron’s annoyance and general derision, snapped back with her usual eloquence, “Really Ronald, I would have thought it would be of a great concern to you that the wizarding world is so backwards as to treat something so extraordinary as if it were a disease-” From his position across the library table, Harry watched his friends antics with a funny warmth in his chest.

He had _friends._

Ron turned brick red, and attempted to loom over his corner of the book strewn table. “Sparks aren’t extraordinary Hermione, they’re really, properly dangerous. Ask anybody!” He flapped his hands about, as if to indicate the general population of the library.

As it was early on a Saturday morning, there was almost no one about except them.

Harry found himself shivering for no apparent reason. Being hated for something you couldn’t control was an intimately familiar feeling for him. Considering Ron’s tone, he suspected that wasn’t the case for his new friend.

He found it impossible to be anything but glad of that, though.

Hermione, her own face colouring, bounced to her feet and shot back another volley. “Ron. The most famous gifted alive is Albus Dumbledore. Two of the founders were gifted. Honestly, these attitudes are short sighted and moronic!” Hermione, Harry suspected, would have little trouble reducing his cousin Dudley to tears.

He found it equally impossible to not find that mental image entirely gratifying.

Ron shoved his chair back, his voice cracking up an octave. “Bloody Hell Hermione, next you’ll be talking about saving werewolves or something!”

A muffled thump whipped Harry’s head around. It was soft enough that his friends completely missed it, going right on with their row.

Their new defense teacher was standing near the back of the cavernous room, half bent to pick up the book he had evidently just dropped. Harry met the man’s strangely yellow eyes for a moment, but before he could process the look on the man’s face, Madam Pince was descending on them with a vengeance.

Honestly, Harry was surprised it had taken her that long to kick them out.

It wasn’t until much later, attempting to cheer Hermione up at being temporarily banned from the library by making a rather clumsy daisy chain, and pretending valiantly that he wasn’t enjoying himself immensely, that Harry finally process what he had seen in those strangely yellow eyes.

_Fear._

***

 _Over here._ Harry froze mid-step, and proceed to tumble down three more, receiving a bruised shin for his trouble. He rubbed it absently, his eyes darting along one of the great staircases and up another.

This was starting to not be funny anymore.

 _Over here!_ Harry whirled around, his eyes darting from one shadow to the next. The corridor before him was just as it has been the last three times he’d looked. Empty.

_Over here, I’m right here!_

Harry’s small hand clenched around his wand until his knuckles and he swore he could here the handle creaking. He risked a whisper-shouted, “Who’s there?”

 _I’m right here stupid!_ Harry felt his temper finally snap over his hesitation and uncertainty at the late hour and growing darkness. “Cut it out, this isn’t funny!”

The voice that answered him was smooth and icy as a winter fog rolling over the moors beyond the castle. “What, precisely, fails to amuse you Potter?” Harry’s heart sank into his over large sneakers. How had Snape known!

Harry’s green eyes met black. Snape had never looked more like a bat, or perhaps a hawk, triumphant at having caught his prey. Harry fought the urge to tremble. “Nothing, Sir.”

His professor’s eyes darted along the corridor, a strange expression flitting across the black depths for barely a moment. “Who were you speaking to, Mr. Potter?” The name, as always, sounded like an insult when uttered by that voice.

Harry glanced away. “No one, Sir.” His relatives had been sure that Harry was mad-as-a-hatter. He most definitely did not need to give yet another person who hated him reasons to doubt his sanity.

And even eleven year old’s knew that hearing voices was at the top of any, signs you might be a crazy person list.

Dumbledore’s…oddities aside, Harry seriously doubted insanity was any less frowned upon in the Wizarding World than it was in the Muggle one.

“I was just fooling around, Sir.”

Snape’s lip curled into a snarl with moments, detentions spilling from his lips. But for just an instant, just a moment, as those dark eyes glanced from the empty corridor to Harry and back, the boy could swear that something flickered in those depths. Something he’d never seen directed his way before, by any adult, at any rate.

Something not unlike… _concern._

***

He was cold. So, so cold.

Moony’s eyes were bright and shining in the fading light. Sirius remembers this day. The day he transformed in front of Remus for the first time. The day Remus accepted him. The night they ran together, dog and wolf, pack, heartbeats in sink.

Remembers the feel of Remus’ hands on his fur, pressing his face close to Padfoot’s snout and inhaling, the tears that dripped into his fur, not of fear but joy.

The smell of Moony is so real, he can almost taste it.

 _Freak! Abomination!_ He remembers it that way, holds onto that memory with all his might, like he does so many others. But in his dreams, Remus’ face curls into a snarl, and the words that are hurled at him are not those of his soulmate’s, but those of his mother, his father, his cousin, his classmates.

_Unnatural. Grim. Monster._

Padfoot jerked awake, the chill of the cell wall leaching through his patchy fur.

Outside the door, a dementor’s cloak swished faintly as it brushed the bars.

Sirius curled into an even tighter ball, and as he had done every night for the last ten years, he tried to remember what it felt like, to be warm.

***

“Lemon drop, Minerva?” McGonagall had long ceased to refuse the confections, preferring to merely accept the saccharine sweet and discreetly make it disappear before it ever reached her tongue.

She harboured no illusions about Albus’ awareness of this little dodge of hers, but he would keep offering, so thus she felt more than justified in her continued vanishing.

Their tea prepared to satisfaction, Minerva accepted a treacle biscuit-her favourite-and pushed a lemon custard the headmaster’s way-his favourite.

Albus thanked her with a wink and huge bite, the shower of pastry flakes changing into a cloud of fireflies and dancing about the desk. One landed on her teaspoon, and she gently brushed it away, taking the opportunity to hide a slightly teary smile in her teacup.

Albus’ ease and joy in his gift had never ceased to astound her, even after a decades long acquintance.

“Do you think young Harry will manifest soon?” Albus’ eyes shuttered, his expression growing grave. To any one else, this might have seemed like detachment, or indifference.

“There is every reason to hope that he will not do so at all, Professor.” And that tone might sound as cold and final as the water of the Black Lake.

Minerva placed here teacup carefully on the table, and reached out a hand to cover one of Albus’. He was shaking, faint tremors of emotion running through his frame.

“There is also every reason to fear he might, Headmaster.” To other people, they might sound so very prejudiced and cruel. To Minerva, well. Her eyes, when they caught on the sole, still picture in this room filled with moving, laughing photographs, were dry and unblinking.

But in her mind’s eye, safely turned away from Albus’ knowing gaze and the possibility of triggering yet more painful remembrances in the man’s soul, she say that lonely, weary little girl as she ought to have been, in a perfect world, her magic so bright it literally flickered across her skin, making her hair dance and her eyes sing.

Abilities had never been linked to blood. Not officially. But Minera remembered the beauty of Lily Evans’ magic, the breathtaking way she could wave her hand, and things would simply _get better._

She remembers a boy that could breath fire, and a young man who never met anyone’s eyes.

And, in her darkest moments, she remembered the blood chilling howl rending through the Ministry’s cells, the night the Potters were laid to rest. The howl that was heard for miles and miles and miles.

And in those moments, she misses them all with such a fierceness that she wonders how Albus can bring himself to get up from his bed day after day.

You never forget a gifted, if you ever chance to meet one. That is what was whispered, in old wives’ tales and ancient research tomes alike.

And for once, Minerva was inclined to believe every word.

***

_Little Tory Spearman manifests on her eleventh birthday. She has been at Hogwarts for three days. Her ability is beautiful, great golden wings springing from her back and propelling her towards the ceiling, one ordinary morning at breakfast._

_Sirius remembers thinking those wings were beautiful_.

_Three days after that, he stands at the bottom of the great staircases, watching those golden feathers turn dull, rusty red with blood. Far above his head, laughter hoots through the air._

_Even an eagle can’t survive a fall from that height._

_On the sixth day of his second year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, his cousin Bellatrix teaches Sirius what true evil looks like._

_It is a lesson he never, ever forget._

***

_“Padfoot, Padfoot stop it!” A peel of laughter lit up the room, as goose down rained about their heads. Sirius leaped across Peter’s dorm bed, collapsing against the edge of James’, fresh pillows clutched in each hand._

_“Make me then!” His voice was pure joy and crowing challenge, laughter making him breathless, as Moony advanced upon him, half shredded pillow cases held up as evidence, his hair askew, feathers sticking from the oddest of places._

_“Padfoot, you’re making a mess.” Sirius threw himself at Remus’ legs, collapsing them both into yet another pile of feathers. “Come one Moony, where’s your sense of adventure?!”_

_Moony fell into the down with a distinct oof! He pulled feathers from his mouth and leveled Sirius with a withering glare._

_Sirius grinned irrepressibly. “My sense of adventure left with the last of the geese.” Sirius stared for a long moment, his mouth actually dropping a fraction, before incredulous laughter bubbled up. “Mooonny, that’s terrible!”_

_Remus rolled them over effortlessly, pinning Sirius against his chest. They shook together, their laughter setting up yet more clouds of goose down._

_When Sirius started to picture their first kiss, nearly four years earlier on that first, fateful train journey, he had not imagined that Remus’ lips would taste of eiderdown and burnt feathers._

_But somehow, that just made it so much more perfect that anything he had ever imagined._

***

_Breaking News: Freaks Walk Amongst Us_

Sirius flicked the paper idly, just to see Fudge flinch. “You’d think they’d be coming up with more original headlines, being the Prophet and all, or do you pay them to write this drivel, Minister?”

His mother had been the most snooty pure blood Sirius had ever had the misfortune to meet, so he suspects that he rather nailed the arrogant derision in that statement.

If Fudge’s chest puffing was anything to judge by, he had indeed. A small thrill of triumph ran through him, to be abruptly quashed by Fudge’s woefully less snooty and more cruel response.

“For your information Black, one of your little friends destroyed half of Diagon Alley last night.” For a moment, Sirius’ heart stopped. _One of your little friends._ He couldn’t mean-

“One of the Carrows, I believe. He was apprehended almost at once, of course, but several people were killed. Such dangerous creatures, _gifteds_.”

Sirius had no idea what Fudge’s political views on so called dark creatures ran to, but if that tone was anything to go by, it couldn’t be anything good.

“The other one tried to come to his aid, got herself trampled by the crowd, even though she tried to drown half of them with water.” Fudge shook his head, as if baffled that any such creature would go to the aid of another of its kind, even their own twin. Not that Sirius could exactly blame him, considering the circumstances. Death Eaters had never been known for their loyalty.

“My condolences, Black.” The derisive parting shot barely reached Sirius’ ears, as he starred at the picture plastered across the daily prophet. Amycus Carrow starred out, his eyes vacant, his skin covered in patches of ice, magic dampening bracelets wound around his wrists.

Patches of ice still clung stubbornly to his skin, despite the attempts to contain his ability.

_She tried to drown half of them with water._

The fact that gifts tended to be passed down through the generations was a closely guarded secret among pure blood families. Taints in the blood line, and all that. So closely guarded that Sirius hadn’t the faintest idea which side of the family he had to thank for his own little gift.

A closely guarded secret, until now.

***

When a skeletal black dog dragged itself to shore, miles down the coast from Azkaban’s forbidding island location, one thought ran through his head like a mantra, even as Lily’s wide smile as she racked in her winnings from yet another impossible poker hand flashed behind his eyes, over and over.

_Protect Harry. Protect Harry. Protect Harry._

***

Miles upon miles away, in the dim pre-dawn light of a boys’ dormitory, a rat peaked through a bed curtain, gazing at the lightning bolt scar on the sleeping occupant of the bed’s forehead with a look would almost have been called thoughtful, if one wasn’t speaking of just a rat.

***

 _“You aren’t scarred of me?”_ He had sounded so incredulous that Remus had almost laughed, because if only he knew.

So he had told him. He had told Sirius everything, from his ability to his curse to the deepest desires of his heart.

His ribs screaming in protest, his wrists still raw from the silver cuffs he used last full moon, Remus Lupin dragged himself over to the stove, and turned up the burner. The paper burned too slowly for his liking, any satisfaction he might have had from watching the word Freak curl up and shrivel away stolen by a fit of hacking, excruciating coughs.

He had never been scarred of Padfoot. Never been afraid of him. Not for being a Black. Not for being gifted. Not for having the foolishness to say he loved a Werewolf.

The irony of it all curdled in his chest, and Remus slumped over the stove, allowing the flames to lick and singe at his skin, his tears splashing onto the range with repeated hisses.

And even as his flesh burned, inside, he felt colder than ever. 

***

_“Moony, it’s fine, it’s perfect even, just watch-” Remus paused, one hand on the door, unable to process anything Padfoot had been saying._

_No one could just accept a werewolf like that. It wasn’t possible._

_“Woof!” Slowly, Remus looked over his shoulder. Tongue lolling, expression hopeful, a large, gangly black puppy gazed up at him. Remus could only stare, for the longest moment._

_The dog’s eyes, so blue-grey and so hopeful, began to droop, doubt and fearing lurking at their edges. Remus knew that look, those feelings. He lived with them every day of his life._

_He was one his knees in an instant, his hands not even hesitating as they reached out to caress, to sooth. The fur was warm and soft under his fingers. Moony stirred at the back of his mind, and yet for once, Remus almost didn’t mind._

_“Hello there Padfoot.” The woof was full of joyful happiness. Remus grinned back._

_Later, Sirius would swear that in that moment, he say the fire in Remus’ eyes, for the very first time._

***

_Severus Snape manifested in the tunnel beneath the shrieking shack. None of them ever talk about it, after. But even Moony felt it, the wolf rearing back his head and howling at the sudden burst of thoughts slamming into his head._

_Remus never quite remembers what they were. But he never forgets the terror behind those words._

_Or the loathing._

_At nearly sixteen, Severus was one of the oldest manifestations on record. Or would have been, if there ever was a record of it. At the time, Sirius snorts derisively about how the Headmaster is being far too kind, to do Snape a favour like that. ___

____

_That the man has some nerve, to tell them all to keep their mouths shut, after what Snape almost did to Remus._

____

_Remus never quite brings himself to retort, “And what about what we almost did to him?” Never makes himself say, what he knows he should have said so many, many times, “What about what we’ve done to him?” ___

______ _ _

_But he watches the blankness that grows in Snape’s eyes, every time they corner him after that. Feels the coldness in the air, as if the boy were a black hole to all emotions and thoughts in his vicinity. He remembers how much of that loathing had been directed inward, rather than outward._

______ _ _

_He remembers Sirius becoming Padfoot in front of him for the first time, shaking worse than when Remus told them all about his curse._

______ _ _

_And he can’t help but wonder how much of a favour the Headmaster had actually be doing for that lonely Slytherin boy, forcing him to hide his very nature from the world._

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

“Sir, what do you see?” Green eyes gazed up at Albus, and for once, he found himself unable to deflect. He met Ariana’s eyes in the Mirror for a moment. “I see my little sister.”

______ _ _

Harry was quiet for a long moment. “Was she like us?” The us was so hesitant, that Albus could scarcely make it out.

______ _ _

Albus flicks his eyes down to the boy’s shoelaces, now a pair of hissing grass snakes. Harry grins, and hisses delightedly back.

______ _ _

Ariana had grinned like that, the first time she had conjured a wind from thin air.

______ _ _

Albus smiled back, his eyes for once brimming with tears of happiness at the memory, rather than tears of pain. “Yes Harry, she was just like us.”

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

His first night back at Hogwarts, Remus falls into a nightmare from which he cannot seem to escape, even when he wakes gasping.

______ _ _

For Sirius’ scent lingers on his skin, even into wakefulness.

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

“Diffindo!” _The ropes binding Snape’s wrists slithered to the ground, and Sirius whirled angrily, only to be brought up short at the implacable expression on Remus’ face._

______ _ _

_Lily slipped past then, casting a scorching glare in their general direction as she went, her small frame slipping underneath Snivellus’ arm._

______ _ _

_The hate in the boy’s eyes was potent as his friend led him away. “Come on Moony, it was just a bit of good fun.” Remus, rather unexpectedly, exploded. “Fun?!” He held up the ropes and shook them under Sirius’ nose. “Fun doesn’t mean making people bleed, Sirius!”_

______ _ _

_“It’s just Sniv-” “Don’t!” Remus’ tone was scorching, but it was the puff of smoke that blew in his face hat stopped Sirius cold. Remus never used his ability against his boyfriend. Never._

______ _ _

_Remus sighed at the incredulous expression on Sirius’ face, and turned his flames on the ropes instead. They watched them smolder for a moment, before Remus broke the silence._

______ _ _

_“I heard about what Regulus did.” About what your parents did. Sirius didn’t need Snivelly’s ability to hear the unspoken words._

______ _ _

_He tried for nonchalance. “Yes, well, I always expected to be disowned one day.” His smile was empty of any happiness. “Just didn’t expect it to be announced in front of the entire school.”_

______ _ _

_And Snape’s laughter hadn’t helped. Remus stared at the last smolders of rope, and sighed. “Did this help?” He didn’t need to gesture at the ashes, at the long-vanished backs of Lils and Sniv_ -Snape.

______ _ _

_Sirius swallowed. “No.” The admission was barely more than a whisper. Remus had never hated him for the cruelty his family’s legacy had bred into his very bones. Had never thought less of him. But somehow along the way, he had taught Sirius that it was possible to do things differently. To be better._

______ _ _

_To be kind. Even to those the whole world taught you to hate._

______ _ _

_Remus reached across the space, pulling Sirius to his chest. And even though no tears came, they stayed like that for a long, long time._

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

_Their first date, James pushes them into the Room of Requirement together, formal robes and candle lit dinner and soft rock music playing._

______ _ _

_Their fingers brush as they dance, awkward and gangly and shy. And every once in a while, a spark will shoot up into the air, and twirl back down in a cascade of light._

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

_A year into their nightly runs, Remus’ grandmother dies. Sirius holds him, huddled together at the back of the Room of Requirement._

______ _ _

_Remus doesn’t shake, doesn’t cry. Once, he raises dull eyes from the painfully formal letter from his mother, and breaths out a choked, “She was the only one who was ever kind to me, after.” He flicked his fingers. Nothing happened, but Sirius got the message loud and clear._

______ _ _

_After the flames came._

______ _ _

_One didn’t have to the a Black to know that family had more power to be harm you than anyone else in the whole world._

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

“Come on, Harry!” Ron attempted to drag his friend towards Hagrid’s cottage, but Harry held firm. “Hermione, did you see that?” He pointed towards the ridge, near the Whomping Willow. Hermione paused before them, her eyes scanning the tree line. “See what Harry?”

______ _ _

Harry looked again, then, under the weight of his friends’ stares, shook his head faintly. “Just thought I say a dog or something.”

______ _ _

The outline of a large, black dog had been unmistakable, a moment before. But surely, Harry told himself, he must have been mistaken.

______ _ _

Because it what he saw really was a dog, why hadn’t he heard its voice?

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

Severus Snape stalked through the castle corridors, drawn to the faint scratching noises coming from his storeroom.

______ _ _

The would-be thief obviously hadn’t counted on _his_ wards.

______ _ _

He was nearing the door when the noises abruptly ceased, and for half a moment, a thought flitted through his head, unbidden, _Damn, what tipped him off-_

______ _ _

When he reached the door and flung it open with a dramatic bang, not a thing stirred, and not a thing was out of place.

______ _ _

But even as he double checked the wards once more, Severus could swear, that the voice, for all that is sounded more adult than child in quality, had been somehow familiar.

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

Three days after the papers proclaim Sirius Black’s escape from Azkaban, Remus wakes up to ashes instead of sheets.

______ _ _

It is the first time his gift has shown the slightest stirring since that night at Godric’s Hollow, over ten years before.

______ _ _

Remus only manages to wait another before he is flooing to Hogwarts. Perhaps Albus’ job offer is worth the potential consequences after all.

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

_No one is quite sure why gifted come online. There are endless theories about it, and even more rumours and legends._

______ _ _

_But Remus the anger on his father’s face, the tears on his mother’s, the fear coursing through his heart, the first time he set the world ablaze._

______ _ _

_And he remembers Sirius’ words of curses and insane laughter, and the yelp of a scared puppy._

______ _ _

_And he knows that all those theories, all those rumours and legends, always get it wrong._

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

_Severus eyes the bandages Remus extends towards him with a look of arch suspicion for the longest time, weighing the pain and the blood literally dripping down his fingers against the odds that they are jinxed._

______ _ _

_In the end, his swaying and Sirius’ sudden entry into the kitchen make the decision for him, as a hand snakes out and snatches the supplies, a barely there nod all the acknowledgement Remus receives before the man is sweeping away in a whirl of black robes and blank eyes._

______ _ _

_Remus couldn’t quite suppress a shiver. Sirius watched the whole thing with hooded eyes, that lingered on Remus in an odd way._

______ _ _

_“Lending a hand to old Snivelly now, eh Remus?” The tone practically drips suspicion. Remus sighs. His boyfriend has never exactly been the most subtle of creatures_.

______ _ _

_That doesn’t render the suspicion any less painful, though_.

______ _ _

_“He was bleeding, Sirius. That is rather hard to fake, don’t you think?”_

______ _ _

_Sirius’ expression remained shuttered. “I don’t know Moony. Seems all sorts are rather good at faking things, these days.”_

______ _ _

_Remus leaves before he says something he will regret. He’s too sore from a moon spent alone to argue about Snape again, and too uncertain of loosing control and hurting someone if Sirius finally stops beating around the bush and asks the question he and James have been whispering about for months now._

______ _ _

_Finally comes out and asks the man that he shares a life with if he’s the spy._

______ _ _

_In the decade that follows, Remus will never quite manage to stop wishing that he had at least said goodbye._

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

James was hopeless at skipping stones. His son, even judging from a marked distance, took after Lily in that area, as in so many other things.

______ _ _

Remus had adored Prongs, but the more he sees of the boy, from his earnestness in class to his careful attention to his friends happiness, making sure Miss Granger and young Mister Weasley have their own stones before he loses another of his, Remus is so grateful that it was Lily’s sweet nature that had prevailed over James innate cavalierness.

______ _ _

The boys whoop as Hermione finally skips a stone, and the children’s laughter is music to Remus’ ears. He tightens his thin cloak about his shoulders against the winter chill, and turns back to the castle.

______ _ _

He swore to himself he wouldn’t put Harry in any more danger then the boy was already in, and getting close to a werewolf, particularly one with a faulty gift, is the last thing his best friends’ son needs right now.

______ _ _

Wind whips off the lake, whistling through the Whomping willow, and Moony shivered.

______ _ _

A storm was most definitely coming.

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

_They tell Peter about Padfoot the day the join the Order. He’s a good sport about being kept in the dark and all that, but in the years that follow, Sirius will have ample time to curse himself for thinking he just imagined the flicker of bitterness that crossed Peter’s face at the revelation_

______ _ _

_He will forever be grateful that they never told him about Remus._

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

_Padfoot keeps jumping in the boxes, scattering papers this way and that, packing nuts gathering on the floor, dishes threatening to break._

______ _ _

_Remus tries to scold him, but he’s too busy grinning like a loon._

______ _ _

_In the end, they make out amongst the boxes while twirls of heatless flame usher everything into its proper place._

______ _ _

_James and Peter find them in the midst of an impromptu box bonfire in their tiny galley kitchen, toasting marshmallows._

______ _ _

_It’s the last time any of them will hear Peter laugh_.

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

_They go over to Prongs’ and Lils’ after, to celebrate successfully moving in together. Lily is bubbling over with joy, hugging them both long and hard, tears of happiness in her eyes._

______ _ _

_Sirius can’t help himself. “Merlin, Lils, save some of those or you’ll have none for when ol’Remy over there finally pops the question.” Lily, fiery and beautiful Lily, just pulls a face at his joshing, and shoots back a dry. “If Remus ever does convince you to settle down for good, Sirius Black, the world will truly be ending.”_

______ _ _

_Sirius remembers how their laughter mingled together, rasping chimes and pealing bells. He remembers that they all sounded so very, very happy._

______ _ _

_Then James ran back from where ever he’d dashed off to the moment they arrived, a bottle of sparkling pumpkin juice in one hand, a grin splitting his face from ear to ear_.

______ _ _

_Remus trails behind him, his eyes glassy with joy. Sirius blinks from one face to another, and then Padfoot drops the penny for him._

______ _ _

_Lily’s radiant as James lifts her into the air, catching her up in his arms, Sirius piling in close, barely able to form coherent words. Remus is alive with warmth at his back, whispering in his ear, “Guess that proposal will have to wait then.”_

______ _ _

_That memory is one of the first one’s the dementors try to take from him._

______ _ _

_They never quite succeed._

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

“Hey Potty Head!” Harry froze, his fingers barely closed around the wing of the practice snitch the twins had let him borrow. Behind him, Zera herded her kits back to the safety of the castle wall. As sad as he was to lose his new friends so soon, part of him was glad to see them go. Harry tried hard not to remember what had happened that time Dudley caught him feeding a sparrow.

______ _ _

“Hey Pot-head, we’re talking to you!” Malfoy had his usual henchmen with him. And all of their wands were out. Harry clenched his hand around his own wand, stuffing the snitch into his pocket quickly, hoping the movement would go unnoticed.

______ _ _

Nudging by the gleam in Malfoy’s eyes, it had not. Crabbe and Goyle were on him before Harry could try a single spell, and for a moment he wished Zera had stayed behind so she could bit Malfoy before he levitated the snitch from Harry’s pocket.

______ _ _

“Lookie what we have here fellows, Pot-head fancies himself quite the expert seeker!” Malfoy tossed the snitch from one hand to the other, his fingers pinching the little wings roughly this way and that.

______ _ _

Harry felt his temper flaring. “Let me go, Malfoy! That isn’t yours!” Malfoy practically crowed with triumph as he turned and hurled the snitch into the air, unactivated and thus breakable. “Like to see you catch it this time, Potty!”

______ _ _

His stomach sinking into his shoes, Harry watched the snitch arc through the air, towards the castle wall…only to be caught inches before it smashed into the surface.

______ _ _

Harry hadn’t seen enough of Professor Lupin to form much of an opinion about him, either than he was too thin, often looked like he was in pain, and had very sad eyes.

______ _ _

But gazing at the man now, as he strode towards them, a stern expression in his amber eyes, the snitch grasped firmly, safely, in one bony hand, Harry felt a strange twinge of familiarity, as if he’d seen those eyes before, somewhere. Somewhen.

______ _ _

Crabbe and Goyle suddenly released Harry, flapping their hands in the air as if burned, for all that the skin was unblemished. Malfoy darted a glance at the professor’s tatty robes, and attempted to keep his lip curled into its usual arrogant curve.

______ _ _

All of their wands shot into Lupin’s free hand, their fingers tingling as if singed by steam, as he drew level with them.

______ _ _

Flicking eyes that appeared to almost glow over all of them, their Dark Arts professor turned his attention to Harry, holding out the snitch. “I believe this is yours, Mr. Potter.” There was a catch in his voice, just the slightest hesitation on Harry’s name.

______ _ _

Harry took the snitch hesitantly, clutching it securely to his chest and blinking slowly as his professor. Was this what being treated kindly by an adult looked like then? Felt like?

______ _ _

Professor Lupin took at opportunity to turn back to Malfoy and his goon squad. “I suggest you gentleman head to dinner, as you will be reporting to Mr. Filch for detention the moment it is over. As well as every other night this week.” Malfoy’s lip curl bristled, even as Lupin raised a firm hand to silence the protests before they started. “And if you have a problem with that, I suggest you take it up with Professor Snape. I’m sure that even as new students, you are more than aware of his policy towards physical bullying amongst students?” Judging from Malfoy’s expression, they were more than aware.

______ _ _

The other boys scattered, their wands sailing after them, as if propelled by wisps of smoke.

______ _ _

Harry watched them go, then turned back to find Lupin kneeling on the ground, Harry’s wand extended for him to take. “Hello there, I’m Remus Lupin. I believe this is your wand.” Harry took it carefully, something warm blooming over the wariness and nervousness in his chest.

______ _ _

“Hello Sir, I’m Harry.” Professor Lupin’s smile, when it came, seemed to almost glow.

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

At the thickest part of the tree line, near a den of rather friendly foxes, a large black dog crouched beneath a bush, watching the exchange with what could almost be called a human-like smile on his face.

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

_The last thing Lily ever said to Remus, the night before Halloween, would haunt him forever. “Remy…if something happens. To us, or Sirius. Look after Harry, won’t you?”_

______ _ _

_And for all that he knows, knows¸ that she couldn’t possibly have known, that her gift didn’t work like that, didn’t have that curse to it, those words will stay with him to his grave, as will the promise he made in answer_.

______ _ _

_Not leastwise because it was over a decade before he was able to keep it._

______ _ _

*** 

______ _ _

It starts, as these things so often do, as a light breeze. By early afternoon, rain clouds have gathered, and the wind picked up to an alarming enough extent for flying lessons to be cancelled early.

______ _ _

By evening, thunder and lightening have joined the deluge, and the moors are alive with forked bursts of light.

______ _ _

Severus is by no means frightened by storms, after suffering the tender mercies of the Dark Lord and Bellatrix, a little thunder is the least of his fears. But after a rumble that actually shakes the Great Hall, Severus can’t help but lean towards Albus an make sure that, “The castle wards of course include storm protection, Headmaster?”

______ _ _

Albus pats his shoulder reassuringly. “Of course, dear boy.” Lightening chooses that moment to hit the top of the Hall. The lights go out.

______ _ _

Albus calmly floats some candles towards the ceiling, and turns back to Severus, “Of course, it never hurts to reinforce such things.” Severus resists the urge to throw his dinner at the old coot.

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

They split up. Severus _knows_ what a bad idea this is, and so does Albus, but between speaking engagements, full moons, and other general inconveniences, they are several professors short, and Minerva and Filius remained behind to calm the anxious students.

______ _ _

Severus refuses to take Sybil as backup to a cocktail party with the Ministry, never mind out into a gale of lightening and thunder.

______ _ _

And it works out alright, in the end, he supposes. Splitting up does save all their lives, after all.

______ _ _

Because when the roof of the entrance hall collapses, Severus is able to send a mental warning to Albus, who is in turn able to stabilize the roof of the Great Hall from joining its adjacent covering, but changing the adjoining stones into water.

______ _ _

Unfortunately, when the severed roof comes crashing down, Severus is trapped under it.

______ _ _

With a dog.

______ _ _

*** 

______ _ _

Remus was supposed to be sedated. The potion hadn’t quite worked the night before, Severus still working out the dosage, and as a result several bones were broken and several arteries slashed. It was the pain of it all knitting back together that kept Remus awake, his lycan metabolism and the storm taking care of the rest.

______ _ _

He was weighing the wisdom of attempting to get out of bed against Madam Pomfrey’s inevitable wrath when the lights went out.

______ _ _

Promptly followed by what sounded like half the castle tumbling down.

______ _ _

He got out of bed. 

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

Harry was quite used to the dark. It was hard to grow up in a cupboard and not be used to the dark. Thus, he wasn’t scarred. But he knew Ron would be, so he felt his way along the table, trying to find his friend.

______ _ _

Unfortunately, Scabbers found Harry first. -Harry is trapped by the storm, and a rat shows up

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

The dog saves his life. Severus never tries to deny that fact, but it makes it no less humiliating to come to with a truly monumental headache pounding at his skull, and a mangy looking mutt lying half on top of him, both of them somehow wedged under one of the castle doors.

______ _ _

Severus offered the dog a grudging pat of thanks.

______ _ _

It sniffed his hand, seemed to consider whether to bite him or lick him, and then promptly transformed into Sirius Black.

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

Remus makes it to the Great Hall just as the lights come back on, stumbling through a door onto the staff dais, every bone in his body aching in time with his racing heart.

______ _ _

The sight that greets him is…improbable.

______ _ _

Peter Pettigrew stands mere feet from the staff table, a wand clenched in his hand.

______ _ _

Pressed against Harry’s throat.

______ _ _

Peter’s eyes, when they alight on Remus, are oddly unchanged by the passing years.

______ _ _

His voice is oddly calmer than it ever used to be, however.

______ _ _

“Remus. How lovely of you to join us!” A chill ran down Remus’ spine, as a trickle of blood ran down Harry’s throat.

______ _ _

He had never doubted Sirius. Never thought he was the spy. Not until James and Lily were betrayed.

______ _ _

_If anything happens to us, to Sirius._ Remus squeezed his eyes shut in remembrance as much as pain.

______ _ _

Oh, what had become of them all. What had they done to one another.

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

Sirius never spared much thought for Snape ability. What it must be like to live with, what impact it had on his life. What advantages and disadvantages.

______ _ _

As a shifter gifted, he is in a majority of a ridiculously small minority. His gift isn’t like Remus’ or Albus’. It isn’t monumental, world changing, dangerous. Not really.

______ _ _

Technically, neither is Snape’s. Technically.

______ _ _

In this moment however, he can do nothing but be so horribly grateful for that prank so long ago, for this ability Snape has. Because even with a wand pressed to his throat, he doesn’t have to speak.

______ _ _

He just has to let the memories he’s clung on to with all his will power for the last eleven years thunder to the front of his skull, meet Snape’s eyes, and shove.

______ _ _

He expects Snape to be incredulous, even then.

______ _ _

He doesn’t expect him to cry. Or hand him the wand previously pointed at his throat, and force him to point it as Snape’s throat.

______ _ _

Sirius blinks in confusion. “Dear Merlin, Black, don’t tell me Azkaban completely addled whatever few brains you possessed in the first place. Pettigrew will expect you to be utterly mad by now. Act like it.” The wand jabbed at Snape’s neck again, and Sirius felt his brain begin to wake up as the world righted itself and things started to make sense again.

______ _ _

It was the insults that did it. _Merlin, no wonder Snivelly had made such a good spy._

______ _ _

“As gratifying as that compliment is, Black, time is of the essence.” And apparently he’d said that out loud. Oops.

______ _ _

Sirius decided not to take such sarcasm lying down, as it were, and gestured dramatically at the surrounding bricks and stone work with the borrowed wand. It was, in a word, a monumental blockage. “How _precisely_ do you propose we do that Snape-”

______ _ _

The stones promptly vanished in a shower of psychedelic butterflies.

______ _ _

Albus Dumbledore stood in the opening. Severus subtly forced Sirius’ arm to gab the wand into his own neck once more.

______ _ _

And that explained the need for the hostage dodge.

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

Convincing Albus is harder than convincing Snape was. The irony is not lost on Sirius.

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

Nails click on flagstones. Remus dares to shift his eyes from Harry for a moment, as the doors to the hall promptly evaporate into an ocean of sand.

______ _ _

Walking out of the whirlwind, is Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape. They look like to bizarrely mismatched avenging angels.

______ _ _

Loping at Severus’ heels, is a large black grim.

______ _ _

Behind Remus, Peter actually squeaks.

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

_Remus’ mother disowns him the day he leaves for Hogwarts. Not in so many words, but in no words at all. She simply refuses to acknowledge he exists any longer._

______ _ _

_They never speak again._

______ _ _

_He tells Sirius about it, one morning as they lie in bed together, in their little flat. Sirius holds him close, idly twirling his fingers through the flames licking across Remus skin, uncaring if he’s burned in the process. He never is._

______ _ _

_When Remus is done, there is a pause. Then, hesitantly, Sirius meets his eyes, his own oddly earnest. “We’ll do better with our own kids, right Moony?” There is so much fear in his expression, yet also, so much hope._

______ _ _

_So much hope that all Remus can do is breath a fervent, “I love you, Sirius Black,” against his lips, and wrap him up in his arms and his flames, and hold on as if nothing could ever make him let go._

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

_Sirius asks James once, if he’ll care if Harry develops an ability. James shrugged casually, stroking baby Harry’s head almost absently._

______ _ _

_“It doesn’t really matter Padfoot. He’s our son. We’ll always love him, regardless of who or what he turns out to be.”_

______ _ _

_Sirius never quite stops wishing, that the world truly was that simple and pure._

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

“Hello Peter.” Sirius’ voice has gotten deeper. Rougher and smokier. Remus mentally shakes himself. That is so not the issue right now.

______ _ _

The love of his life stands at the front of the hall, brick dust and blood coating every inch of him, his hair long and tangled, half falling in his face. His eyes, when they flick over Remus, sliding but never holding his gaze, are an ocean of pain and regret.

______ _ _

Remus knows that expression intimately. He’s seen it in the mirror every morning, every day for the last ten years.

______ _ _

Peter quakes, and Remus winces, his skin prickling with repressed heat, as the wand hovers dangerously close to Harry’s throat.

______ _ _

He tries to let the tingle race through his skin, let it grow, but the pain rears its head and swamps it back down. Too close to the full moon. Far, far too close.

______ _ _

Too many years of not so much as a lit candle to prove his gift ever existed at all.

______ _ _

Sirius’ eyes are locked with Pettigrew’s. Sirius wonders at the control it must take him, not to transform back into Padfoot and go for the man’s throat. For the way he is threatening Harry. For what Peter has done to Sirius. To Remus. To them all. Ten _years_.

______ _ _

“It’s been too long.” Peter squeaked again, his eyes darting about. He never had been good in a crisis, Remus thought bitterly.

______ _ _

“D-don’t come any closer S-Sirius, Dumbledore, Professor.” This last is directed at Minerva, who has been attempting to circle behind Peter’s back. They all freeze, as the wand presses into Harry’s jugular once again. “Or our little savior here just have a little accident.” Peter’s voice was even more squeaky than it had once been, but he still made the threat sound bone chillingly credible.

______ _ _

Then something truly unexpected happened. And that was a tall order, considering the events of the last few minutes.

______ _ _

Snape laughed. “Oh Pettigrew, it is not _us_ you should be concerned about.” He flicks his eyes to Remus.

______ _ _

Peter’s focus shifts for but a moment, but it is one moment too long.

______ _ _

Mr. Padfoot’s eyes meet Mr. Moony’s, for the first time in ten long years.

______ _ _

Something _snaps_ inside Remus, like a spring long coiled suddenly releasing.

______ _ _

And the world goes _white._

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

Albus will later say it was breathtaking, flames licking across every surface, winding from Remus’ hands to the very top of the hall and back, knocking away anything harmful in its path.

______ _ _

Like Pettigrew, or his stolen wand.

______ _ _

Like the spell he tried to fire off at Sirius.

______ _ _

Like the _storm_.

______ _ _

For Remus, it just felt warm.

______ _ _

For Sirius, it just felt like finally, finally coming home.

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

It was over. Sirius drew in a shaky breath, spinning on his heel to meet Remus’ gaze. It was over.

______ _ _

Laughter bubbled in his chest, wild and mad and free.

______ _ _

Remus just gazed at him, for the longest moment. Sirius tried to sniffle his laughter, tried to catch his breath, tried to do anything except stand there and laugh, and laugh, and laugh.

______ _ _

Merlin, it was just like then. Perhaps madness truly did run in the Black family. Perhaps Azkaban was finally catching up with him.

______ _ _

Tears welled and spilled, and yet Sirius still couldn’t stop laughing.

______ _ _

And then, and _then,_ Remus moved.

______ _ _

They crashed into each other like two unstable towers, meeting in the middle after a devastating earthquake. Remus was as hot as a banked coal against Sirius skin, his own freezing frame melting against the love of his life.

______ _ _

Padfoot breathed in, deep and sharp and painful, and _howled._ Remus smelled so _sad._

______ _ _

About them, ashes and embers smoldered and cracked. The Professors formed a loose circle around the Hall, Severus’ half supported by Albus, Minerva with a hand upon Harry’s shoulder.

______ _ _

Not a face was free of a tear or two, not even Snape’s.

______ _ _

In their midst, Sirius’ arms wound their way about Remus’ shoulders, and held on, as if he never intended to let go again.

______ _ _

And he never did.

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

_Flames swirled through the air, snatching the paper out from Sirius’ grasp and up, up, dancing and twirling as it burned, embers scattering around them like a shower of glowing, sparking snowflakes._

______ _ _

_Sirius watched in silence, his gaze distant and his eyes misty. “We’re leaving for good tomorrow, aren’t we Moony.” It was a rhetorical question, if there ever was one._

______ _ _

_Remus pressed a warm cheek against Sirius’ cold fingers, rasping his tongue over slightly torn knuckles. A laugh choked out of Sirius. “Remus, you’re a werewolf, not a kneazle!” But he didn’t move his hand._

______ _ _

_Remus grinned, an orange glow dancing across his irises. Sirius felt something stir deep in his chest. “Do you remember the day we met?” Remus’ grin turned wry. “Hard to forget you nearly breaking our feet with that enormous trunk!”_

______ _ _

_Sirius jostled Remus’ shoulders with his arm, playfully. “Well it’s better than having all your things stuffed in your pockets.” Even as he said it, he had the sudden urge to bite his tongue before all the words could finish tumbling out. God, he could he such a spectacular ass at times…_

______ _ _

_“They don’t want me back, you know.” Sirius felt his heart freeze with something that had nothing to do with the stiff night breeze_.

______ _ _

_“Your parents.” Again, he clacked his teeth shut centimeters from his tongue. It hardly needed saying, that. Remus canted a sardonic smile his way. It was all fang._

______ _ _

_Sirius loved and hated that smile, in equal measure. He hated himself for provoking that smile. And he hated the world for teaching Remus, sweet, gentle Remus, the necessity of such smiles._

______ _ _

_“John and Dora Lupin, now. To you.” The hesitation was barely there. But it was there. “To me.”_

______ _ _

_Sirius gritted his teeth against a very unhuman growl, wrapping an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders and pulling him into his side. Their foreheads rested against each other, with infinite gentleness._

______ _ _

_“Good bloody riddance, I say.” Remus choked out a laugh, fire sparking with the abrupt exhale._

______ _ _

_Most people, his own family included, hated Sirius for his abrupt honesty and tactless guile._

______ _ _

_Remus loved him for it. And Sirius loved him for that._

______ _ _

_Remus gazed at a charred bit of parchment that was all that remained of what was to be Walburga Black’s last earthly communication with her son, still twirling improbably in the air before them_.

______ _ _

_“You’re not going home either, are you.” This too wasn’t a question._

______ _ _

_Remus’ breath warm on his cheek, their heartbeats sinking together, the wolf and the dog for once at harmony in each other’s company, Sirius decided to answer it anyway._

______ _ _

_He watched a final spark spiral downwards, alighting on the snow with nary a hiss. His words, when they came, were rough with emotion. “I already am home._ ”

______ _ _

_And as much as he was going to miss Hogwarts, miss his friends, miss everything he had known for the past seven years, gazing into tawny yellow eyes blazing brightly in the night, Sirius knew, that when he talked about home, he no longer meant Grimmauld place. He didn’t even mean Hogwarts._

______ _ _

_Home…just meant Remus._

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

There is pain, freezing and creeping and crippling. His lungs burn, his muscles ache with a decade of disuse and misuse and overuse.

______ _ _

Sirius blinked. Even that hurt. He blinked again. The infirmary smelled just like it always had.

______ _ _

He blinked a third time, tears threatening.

______ _ _

“Snuffles?” Sirius turned his head, inch by painful inch. Green eyes pierced into his, small shoulders rounded with fear and worry.

______ _ _

Harry almost reached Remus’ chest, the werewolf’s arm holding him close.

______ _ _

Sirius blinked over and over, his vision blurring. He had missed so much…

______ _ _

His gaze flicked over his godson, traveling up the arm, up Remus’ too thin frame, up to amber-yellow eyes that…were as alight with flames as he remembered.

______ _ _

Sirius gasped, his breath seizing in his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut. Warmth chased across his skin, flames licking gently at the tears upon his cheeks.

______ _ _

A hand slipped into one of his, large and scarred on his right, small and hesitant on his left.

______ _ _

“We’re here Padfoot. We’re here now.” Sirius kept his eyes shut, his laugh more a wheeze than anything. He squeezed the hands tightly. And for the first time in nearly ten years, he let himself _breath._

______ _ _

It was good to be home.

_____After_ _ _ _ _

Professor McGonagall escorts him, her footsteps sure and ringing in Harry’s ears, from the flagstone of the great hall to the slate of the courtyard, the cobbles of the bridge and the packed earth of the path, until finally, soft grass springing beneath their feet, they reach the crest of the hill, the familiar sight of Hagrid’s cottage in the distance filling Harry’s small chest with a reassuring warmth. Like his baby blanket, on a cold evening in his cupboard.

______ _ _

Like the feel of Snuffles’ fur, coarse and warm beneath his fingers.

______ _ _

Like the touch of his godfather’s fingers on his chin, tears wet on both their cheeks.

______ _ _

They stop almost at the base of the Whomping Willow, the breeze ruffling Harry’s hair as much from the branches whipping past as it is the echoes of the latest spring gale.

______ _ _

It’s a beautiful day, the sky blue, the birds bright and chirpy, the loch shinning in the distance, gleaming and brilliant.

______ _ _

Harry only has eyes for the man perched casually on a tree root, new robes somehow already rumpled and slightly grass stained.

______ _ _

He looks exactly like the kind of man Aunt Petunia would hate.

______ _ _

He looks exactly, Harry knows now, like the kind of man his dad had loved.

______ _ _

Harry clutches that knowledge close to his heart with a desperation that no time will ever truly erase.

______ _ _

His head of house’s hand is firm on his shoulder, but gentle with it.

______ _ _

“Mr. Black, may I present Mr. Harry Potter?” Harry thinks it’s a very odd way of phrasing things. It’s not like Sirius is a stranger.

______ _ _

Sirius’ eyes are always blue-blue, but they practically glow when he’s happy. Harry hadn’t known that, before that moment.

______ _ _

With a wisdom beyond his years, he just knows that Minerva McGonagall had.

______ _ _

Sirius saunters up to him, a cheesy grin spreading across his face that reminds Harry of nothing so much as a Cheshire cat.

______ _ _

The whole effect is only slightly ruined by the tears brimming in his godfather’s eyes.

______ _ _

A hand is jutted in his direction. “Mr. Harry Potter. It’s a great pleasure to meet you.” It makes his name sound like a benediction, instead of a curse. It makes it sound special.

______ _ _

And not like the nonsense everyone in _this_ world spouts.

______ _ _

And not like the nonsense everyone in that _world_ spouted.

______ _ _

It makes _Harry_ feel special.

______ _ _

Harry gazes at the hand for a long moment. He blinks.

______ _ _

Sirius’ arms, when they wrap around his shoulders and squeeze, when Harry wraps his own around the man’s back and clings, are the warmest, most reassuring, bestest feeling in any wide world.

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

He never does get his day in court. The ministry expunges his record in absentia, while he is still unconscious. But Fudge has to come to the infirmary to present the paperwork, Snape and Dumbledore at his back, Harry glowering from one side of the bed, Remus growling from the other, the man practically wetting himself at being in a room with some many _gifted_ at once.

______ _ _

Sirius can’t help giving a slight _grrr_ when the paperwork is extended for his signature, and it is most gratifying to watch Fudge _flinch._

______ _ _

On the man’s way out, Snape drawls out a loud, “Really Minister, such language is hardly appropriate in front of tender ears,” and the Minister of Magic promptly turns puce and faints dead away.

______ _ _

It remains one of Sirius’ fondest memories.

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

He never apologizes to Snape. Snape apologizes to Harry though.

______ _ _

The Head of Slytherin stops by to drop off Remus’ potion like clockwork, every month. First at Hogwarts, then at _The Den._

______ _ _

On the twentieth anniversary of their deaths, the second war at its height, Severus almost thinner than Remus with exhaustion and crucio, Sirius makes him sit down for the first time, while Remus prepares some hot cider on the stove.

______ _ _

Sirius gazes at Snape’s scarred wrists for a very long time, and then asks a question he is sure has haunted the man across the table far more than it has ever haunted himself. “Did Lily ever forgive you? For what you said that day?” Severus sits frozen for a long time.

______ _ _

You could hear a pin drop. Then, “No.” There is a wealth of pain in that one word.

______ _ _

Black eyes meet his, and for once, they are so full of emotion it threatens to drown Sirius in the sheer depth of it. “Did you ever forgive yourself, for what you did?” Sirius swallows a lump twenty years in the making, “No.”

______ _ _

The truth of it echoes around the kitchen.

______ _ _

A single tear slips down Severus’ cheek. When Remus brings the cider to the table, Sirius holds out the cup to Severus, and he takes it without hesitation.

______ _ _

They are both so very tired, of being bitter about the past.

______ _ _

The next month, Severus brings a bottle of Fire Whiskey for the cider.

______ _ _

“Baby steps,” Remus whispers in Sirius’ ear. Severus hears the thought, naturally.

______ _ _

Lily told Remus once that her best friend had a beautiful smile.

______ _ _

As usual, Lily was right.

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

“Remus, Sirius, the foxes are talking to me! They love the den we built!” Sirius breaks the kiss first, the two of them turning to the back door, Harry’s face shining with exertion and happiness. He’s holding a fox kit.

______ _ _

“His name is Lance!” Remus meets Sirius’ eyes, and they both resign themselves to a future of morning fox feeding.

______ _ _

They wouldn’t have life any other way.

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

Harry has scars on his back. The first time Sirius realizes this, he considers storming over to the Dursleys and throwing the killing curse at them.

______ _ _

Remus calms him down with a hand upon his shoulder and a gleam in his eyes, and suggests they send Snape to Number 4 Privet Drive instead.

______ _ _

They never hear from the Dursleys again, and Sirius is just vindictive enough to never bother checking why.

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

“Snape’s acting weird.” Sirius gratefully shoved away his tray of Infirmary…mush, and regarded his godson with a smile crossed with a frown. “Hello to you too Pup.”

______ _ _

Harry blushed, and approached the bed somewhat hesitantly. “Sorry Sirius.” Sirius melted like goo, “C’mere, Pup.” He held out his arms, and was gratified when Harry rushed forward and clambered onto the edge of the bed.

______ _ _

“Now, what’s this about ol’ Snape, then, Pup?” Harry scrunched up his nose. It was adorable. “He’s being almost…nice.” He said it like it was a rare form of magic.

______ _ _

Sirius didn’t blame him. Harry slumped against Sirius’ side. “He hated me, and now he’s not even taking points anymore!” Sirius winced, the urge to go back to the start of the year and strangle Snape warring with the urge to go back a decade further and punch himself out.

______ _ _

“It wasn’t you he hated Harry.” Wide green eyes turned towards him. “We knew Snape you seen, as children. And your father James and I.” Sirius grew in a breath, the memory of Lily’s glare as Snape leaned into her shoulder, bleeding and crying, one that had never truly faded.

______ _ _

“We were brutes, Harry. Children can be very cruel, sometimes. Even those who have known cruelty themselves. Sometimes especially those who have known cruelty themselves, can be so very cruel to others.” Harry was quiet for a long time.

______ _ _

“Are you sorry about it?” Sirius swallowed. Those eyes were so very like Lily’s. “More than you can imagine Pup.” Another pause. “D’you think my Dad was sorry about it? About being cruel, even to Snape?” Voice husky with emotion, Sirius pulled Harry closer. “I know he was Pup, I know he was.”

______ _ _

“Padfoot?” His eyes squeezed shut, Sirius breathed out shakily, “Yes Harry?”

______ _ _

“Do you think they loved me, mum and dad?” Sirius pulled Harry into a tight embrace, pressing a kiss to the boy’s forehead. “I know they did, pup.”

______ _ _

And raising his eyes to meet Remus’ across the room, he knew with certainty that truer words would never be spoken. 

______ _ _

**

______ _ _

After _Remus_ nearly burns down his mother’s portrait-and the entire wall upon which she sits-for the sixth time, Sirius suggests they go cottage hunting.

______ _ _

He suggests cottages because, well, simple things make him twitchy these days.

______ _ _

Things like _walls._

______ _ _

And they really do need the space, what with Harry’s growing broom collection. And Sirius’ inability to learn how to include the word no into his parenting aesthetic.

______ _ _

Plus, there’s Remus’ furry little problem to consider.

______ _ _

They go cottage hunting.

______ _ _

Harry likes the one with the room for a pony. Remus laughs himself sick, mostly at Sirius’ baffled expression.

______ _ _

Harry, they’ve learned, doesn’t particularly like horses.

______ _ _

As more of a dog person, if he says so himself, Sirius is more than fine with this.

______ _ _

They get the one with room for a pony. Remus had liked the rockery beds.

______ _ _

Sirius had liked the lack of proximity to any portraits containing his mother.

______ _ _

Harry really likes the paddock. Remus insists they get a TV.

______ _ _

When it blows out half the windows, Severus helps get the glass out of Sirius’ forearms.

______ _ _

They only curse at each other every other sentence.

______ _ _

Remus counts it as a win.

______ _ _

Harry comes back from a playdate at the Burrow with a freshly painted sign for the gatepost.

______ _ _

Sirius grumbles under his breath.

______ _ _

_The Den,_ it is.

______ _ _

They get goats for the paddock.

______ _ _

They get on surprisingly well with the foxes.

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

Almost all of the Weasleys have abilities. Watching Bill and Charlie lob a quaffle back and forth without using their hands, Sirius finds himself once again awed by the love and acceptance Arthur and Molly Weasley shower on their children.

______ _ _

Watching little Ginny Weasley blush at Harry, a chain of flowers floating through the air between them, Sirius catches Remus’ hand and squeezes. Remus’ tawny eyes are alight and blazing.

______ _ _

“Are you happy, Sirius?” His answering smile speaks louder than words ever could.

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

_Those with Extraordinary Magical Abilities remain a much misunderstood and much understudied group. Perhaps the most burning question for EMAs themselves, is why they are the way they are_.

______ _ _

_Personally, I have yet to find an answer. But when I use my ability now, when I watch my partner and our son use theirs, only one thing is truly important; how we feel about each other._

______ _ _

_And the answer to that, is simply love._

______ _ _

_-Excerpt from_ Surviving the Extraordinary: A Story of the Gifted, told by a Gifted, _by Sirius Orion Lupin-Black_

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

Most mornings, Sirius is the one who burns the toast. This morning however, Remus manages to completely blacken it, too preoccupied with kissing Sirius good morning as thoroughly as possible.

______ _ _

“Moony, Padfoot, you guys burned the toast again!” He reacts like a typical teenager the moment he rounds the corner, burnt toast and toasting fork scattering every which way, Remus launching forward with a playful growl to scoop Harry up and twirl him around, even though at fourteen, he’s much too old for such things, really.

______ _ _

Padfoot quite rightly dismisses that for the hegemonic piffle it is, and with a shake and a woof, leaps into the fray of his family.

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

They arrive at Headquarters together, all three of them, for the first Order meeting of the Second Wizarding War.

______ _ _

Harry, at eighteen still barely coming up to their shoulders, a legacy of the Dursleys that no time will now ever truly erase, has a snake twirled about his wrist, another around his neck, Hedwig on one shoulder, foxes at his heels.

______ _ _

Remus throws the door open with a lick of flame, nearly singeing Severus' hair as he opens it from the other side.

______ _ _

Their relationship with Snape has mellowed over the years into something that, while not quite a friendship, as at least amicable enough that all the man does it glare, and then without any real heat behind it.

______ _ _

Sirius had never thought about how expressive those eyes weren’t, until he started to see how truly expressive they could be. Watching the quiet pride with which Severus regards Harry’s ease with his gift, Sirius feels something that might one day be called warmth blossoming in his chest.

______ _ _

Remus throws a fireball at his mother’s portrait before she can work up a single good screech, and as the meeting is called to order, for the first time in his entire life, Sirius sits in his childhood home, and feels completely and utterly at ease with what, and who, he was born to be.

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

In the utter stillness of the January evening, the crunch of snow under paws was loud enough to seem to echo out across the open space of the little village square, into the silent and shadowed headstones of the graveyard beyond.

______ _ _

Padfoot stopped at the edge of the cemetery, hesitating. When Sirius stepped over the boundary, it was on two feet, not four.

______ _ _

Somethings, he needed words to express.

______ _ _

“Hey Prongs, Hey Lils.” He knelt in the snow, for once not minding the cold. Brushing frost from the names carved into the stone, he rested his knuckles against the intertwined J and L at the bottom.

______ _ _

“I know it’s been a while. I’m-” Sirius choked, his head dropping to his breast.

______ _ _

“I’m so sorry James, Lily,” his words blurred into sobs, “But I’m going to look after Harry, I promise, I _promise_.”

______ _ _

The arms that wrapped around him were oh so warm, despite the chill of the night. And the voice in his ear was as brittle yet gentle as hot chocolate on a cold winter morning.

______ _ _

“They know Padfoot. They know.”

______ _ _

***

______ _ _

A celebration, dinner and dancing. Harry, nearly grown, groaning at his godfathers’ attempts to ruffle his hair or straighten his dress robes, graduation cap perched precariously on one side.

______ _ _

Fawkes soaring about the rafters, setting the edges of banners nearest them alight, trilling madly when Remus flicks his fingers this way and that, the flames snuffing out with barely a smoulder.

______ _ _

Severus’ deep chuckle mingling with Albus’ peels of laughter, Minerva’s dry laugh dancing across the crowds of eager students.

______ _ _

The shadows of war washed clean by the eagerness of youth.

______ _ _

Sirius wonders if he was ever that young. He remembers himself at seventeen, nearly a year of war under his belt nothing compared to a lifetime of living under his parents’ roof.

______ _ _

He remembers Remus at thirteen, covered in blood and vomit, his eyes burning with tears and flames, begging over and over for them to not say anything, _please._

______ _ _

He remembers Harry at twelve, shadows of scars on his back, his little face fierce and shining with determination, his uncle blustering as he’s led away by the muggle authorities.

______ _ _

Remus’ hand is both firm and gentle where it grips his shoulder, sliding up to his neck and squeezing with just the right amount of pressure and reassurance.

______ _ _

Around them, sounds with far too much metal and far too little rhythm to truly be called music washes over the crowed.

______ _ _

Harry grabs Ginny Weasley’s hand, twirling her past them in a flash of red hair and giggles.

______ _ _

For a moment, his eyes find Remus’, and they are nineteen again, clasping hands beneath the table at James and Lily’s wedding, giddy with happiness and champagne.

______ _ _

Remus steps deftly around a group of swaying teenagers, his shoulders square and jaw determined, his eyes burning into Sirius’.

______ _ _

“Shall we?” The hand extended to him is peremptory in its insistence.

______ _ _

When Sirius laughs, it is all teeth and hair, incredulous joy and hard-won happiness.

______ _ _

Neither of them leads, the beat impossible to truly distinguish, never mind follow.

______ _ _

It is as awkward as it was twenty years ago in the room of Requirement, their feet crashing into each other every other step, their noses almost bumping, their hair brushing, their fingers grasping and _holding._

______ _ _

A particularly dramatic stumble draws their eyes together, their laughs mingling and breathless.

______ _ _

Light dances along Remus’ skin, flickering and flaring. Flames lick along their joined fingers, the warmth reaching into Sirius, until it seems to touch his very soul.

______ _ _

Like a spark, ignited, he thinks. And for once, it is without a trace of irony. Or bitterness.

______ _ _

Sirius comes out of the next dip with deliberate purpose, resting his forehead against Remus’, their eyes closing at the same moment.

______ _ _

And together, they set the world aglow.

______ _ _


End file.
